Call Me Then
by LillyAccountabilibuddy
Summary: Stan's inability to make decisions forces Kyle to make one for him, no matter how painful it may be. Songfic to "Call Me When You're Sober" by Evanescence. Warnings inside.


_Call Me Then_

This story is based on the song "Call Me When You're Sober" by Evanescence. I don't think it's anything special, and I didn't concentrate much on it as I was writing. I haven't put anything up lately because I haven't gotten anything good, and I think it's because I've been trying too hard. So I just let this one flow, and lets see what happens. Sorry about the uneven sections and the weird ending.

**WARNINGS: **Language

Sorry this story's kind of weird, but like I said, I just went whoosh!

- Lilly D.

* * *

I used to wonder what it was about her that made him prefer her to me. Back then, I thought that life was like in fairytales, where you meet that one person who has everything you always wanted, and I didn't see what she held for him. Maybe that was jealousy speaking, but even when I tried to put myself in everyone's shoes, I didn't see it. She was ditzy and air headed, always whining or giggling and you never knew what was coming next. And there I was, right in front of his face, smart, caring, dependable… but he went for her. For years it drove me crazy.

It took me a while to realize that it wasn't who she was; it was what she was. She was beautiful and popular, two things he was having trouble seeing past. Then, he decided he wanted more in a relationship, and that's when I came along. I'd liked him for years, ever since he'd helped me get through gym class in the sixth grade. He was gorgeous and funny and talented and charming and sweet… and oh, lord, it could go on for hours. I always prided the fact that I was his best friend.

Anyway, he and Wendy had one of their numerous arguments one night, and as usual, he came to me. As always, I was there to comfort him and tell him that things would get better, but that night seemed different. He told me that he didn't want to deal with her anymore. He wanted someone stable that had always been there for him. He wanted me.

Of course, I was swept off my feet when he said this, and I eagerly agreed, forgetting that it was _Stan_ I was talking to. Despite being all those wonderful things, he had one flaw: he was wishy-washy. That was the cause of many of his and Wendy's fights. His love for her faded in and out. Just like his love for me did.

But I was in love with him. And even as he formed some sort of sick pattern between the two of us, I pretended to be oblivious and was always the cushion for his fall. It took me until now to realize that I'm sick of being squashed by his ass.

He's standing at my door again, with those shining, ocean blue eyes glittering at me like a wet puppy wanting in from the cold. I remind myself of all the hurt that he's caused me, and that if I wore it on my face, I'd look worse than him. Still, however, I let him inside, just because that's the friendly thing to do, and I sigh and let him begin his rant.

"I don't know why I even try," he says as he storms in and plops on my couch. They're the same basic words he always uses. "You've been right for me all along."

I resist muttering "since yesterday," under my breath, wanting to be mature about the situation. "Have I?"

"She's always whining and giving me shit just because I can't listen to everything she says. How the fuck was I supposed to remember that her sister's anniversary was today? I don't even remember my _own_ sister's shit! And then yesterday, she yelled at me because I thought her favorite color was blue. Apparently it's purple. How the hell was I supposed to know?"

"She wears it every day," I point out uninterestedly.

He throws his hands up in frustration. "Well, I'm not fucking Einstein!" Obviously.

This is the first time I haven't made an effort to be all concerned about his constant break ups, and I think he might realize it. Of course, I really don't think he cares.

"Kyle, I'm sorry. I should've just stuck with you. You're better than she is. I love you more." He reaches out to me, but I gently push his hand away. His face once again resembles a drowned bunny rabbit or something as he looks up at me.

I sigh and start what I never thought I'd do. "Stan, you… you love me today. You loved me on Tuesday. You loved me on Sunday. But every day between, you love her. Every time I let you in, I fall in love all over, and it makes me happy in a way I can't even explain. And then you'll just kick me to the curb when your mood switches, and I'll be left to wait until you come back to do it again. "

"You don't know how hard it is, Kyle! She's like-"

I cut him off before he can start whining again. "It's hard for _you_? What about me? _I _love you _all _the time. It's not just a mood of the day sort of thing. I love you, and every time you come to me, I feel so happy because I think you love me back. And maybe you do… for a moment. Then, you go back to her, and it hurts every single time. I get all excited and get shot down every single time. And I keep thinking, that one day, just maybe, you'll stay with me, and you won't go back. Then, on the other hand, I have a constant fear that you'll stick with her and never come back to me. And… I just can't take it anymore, okay?"

He just stares at me blankly for a few long, miserable moments before speaking. "So what are you saying?"

…And none of it got through his thick skull.

_Don't cry to me  
__If you loved me  
__You would be here with me  
__You love me  
__Come find me  
__Make up your mind_

I hold back an exasperated sigh and sit on the couch across from him. "Stan, I can't do this."

"Can't do what?" he asks with more concern as he finally catches on.

Putting my head in my hands, I let my sigh out slowly. "Stan, what does our relationship mean to you?"

"I love you! Don't you love me?"

Really, this guy's not bright. "Did you catch _anything_ I just said?"

"Yeah, you said you don't like how I keep going back to Wendy. But I love _you_, man! You know that!"

"Do I?" I lean back on the couch and struggle to keep myself calm because part of me wants to cry and the other part wants to scream. "If you love me so much, then why do you even need her?"

This catches his tongue for a second, and he has to pause to think. "Well, I… she's different, you know? I feel like I still want to be with her even though I love you."

"Do you care at all about what she feels or what I feel? I'm not just here because you need me, Stan, and the same goes for her. We're not pieces on your little game board. I feel hurt every time you shut me out, okay? You don't know… you don't even care… how much I love you and what you mean to me."

He looks as though he's trying to be sympathetic, but I know he doesn't know what the hell I just said. "If you love me so much," he says, "Why are you willing to let me go?"

"Because I don't want to love you," I reply quietly, wiping a tear from my eye. I expected him to be yelling at me, and a fight to occur or something. But I'm still in charge, and it's making this harder. "I don't want to hurt anymore."

He shakes his head and wraps his arms around me, staying far enough away for me to look at him. "Kyle, I won't hurt you anymore. I'll forget Wendy, and it'll just be me and you, like it's supposed to be."

"And we'll skip off into the sunset and live happily ever after?" I snap, shaking out of his arms and backing away. "This isn't a movie, Stan. This isn't a fairytale. This is life, and I know that you'll never stop loving her for more than a couple days."

He's still shaking his head. "No, Ky, I can fix it. I swear I can."

"Stop it, Stan," I say, holding back more tears, "Just stop. You're making it worse. It can't happen. It won't happen. You're not helping anything."

_Should I let you fall  
__Lose it all  
__So maybe you can remember yourself  
__Can't keep believing  
__We're only deceiving ourselves  
__And I'm sick of the lie  
__And you're too late_

This seems to make him angry. "That's not even fair!" he cries, "You're not even giving me a chance! You can't just say that something can't happen! You won't even let me try!"

"This is love, Stan," I tell him, "You shouldn't have to try to feel it."

"It's hard, Ky!" he exclaims. Honestly, I think he must be an idiot if he thinks _I'll _feel pity for _him_. "You've never loved two people! Loving you is new, but I just can't let her go!"

My attempts to block the waterworks didn't work, and I feel more tears on my cheeks as I reply. "I tried to understand. I tried so hard to put myself in your shoes and get it. But you can't have it both ways! Sometimes you have to make sacrifices, and usually, you don't even have to think before you do so. Do you think you should get everything you want?"

Once again, I've blocked another defensive. "I… I… want…"

"You can't get everything. If you could, then love wouldn't even exist because everyone would have every person they wanted."

He looks at me in disbelief and confusion as his brain tries to piece together what's happening. "Kyle… please… I need another chance. I can't lose both of you."

"Sometimes that's what happens when you take advantage of something."

I see something flare up in his eyes again. "It's my fault that I love her too? I can't control it! You're the one who said you don't want to love me, but you do! I don't want to love her, but I do, and I can't help it! What else am I supposed to do?"

"Get your head straight," I reply, "Maybe you can call me when you do."

_Couldn't take the blame  
__Sick with shame  
__Must be exhausting to lose your own game  
__Selfishly hated, no wonder you're jaded  
__You can't play the victim this time  
__And you're too late_

Stan's gone, and even though I think things went okay tonight, I'm still upset. I loved him, and I still do. Every time I was with him it was like going to the adoption center to hold a puppy I could never have. Somehow, however, letting him go for real doesn't feel as bad as watching him leave when I knew he'd come back. Maybe it's a sense closure and certainty that's different about this time, because I know that after I heal, I'll never hurt like that again. I won't let myself.

Still though, I'm hurting. Part of me feels as though I made a mistake. Maybe the happiness I felt was worth all of the suffering that came with it. Isn't that what they say about life in general? To be happy, you've got to suffer some? All I can think is that I've been feeling more pain than happiness in the last months, and that that saying must indicate some sort of balance. And there is, of course, the possibility that I'm reading too much into it, as usual.

Another part of me feels as though I wasted years of my life on something worthless. He's always been out of my league, and I never really had him as my own. The desperation inside of me just clung onto the small part of him that I did have. Five years I've loved him. There's the possibility I'll never love like that again because I gave it all up for him. I wonder if there's an infinite amount of love in people, or if it runs out as the feeling results in pain. All I can do now is find out.

_You never call me when you're sober  
__You only want it 'cause it's over  
__How could I have burned paradise  
__How could I?  
__You were never mine_

When I step back and look at the big picture, one fact blares out at me: It's done. It's over. I already ended it with him and I can't change it. Then, I know I've done the right thing. Stan will get over it; he only seemed so upset because he didn't want it to end. He wanted to keep using me. And I'm just going through the normal pain of breaking up. All Stan's been doing is holding me back, and one day, maybe I'll find someone who will love me, and only me, forever.

_I've made up your mind. _

Okay, so as usual, I must review my own story. *hold for eyeroll*

I didn't like the ending. What happened was, there were messages in the song I wanted to put in, but I sorta ran out of plot to fit them in, so I just kind of stuck it in wherever it fit. (Don't snicker, you perverts.)  
Then there's Stan, who I kind of thought was a bit too stupid to be believable, but it was fun to write him so stupid, just 'cause Kyle's like *sigh*.

One thing I wanted to work on with this was my actual writing, excluding the plot, consistancy, and all that. I just wanted to work on a good flow that was smooth with good word choice and crap. I think I did okay, but I'll have to read it again and again before I can judge that. ;)

So, sorry about the ending, and I'll trot off before this gets too long.

Lots of love!  
- **_Lilly D. _**


End file.
